


To Hold The World Just One More Time

by Fellowship_of_the_Fangirls



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst, Bisexual Peter Parker, Bisexual Stephen Strange, Canon Rewrite, Homoflexible Tony Stark, Multi, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark is Good With Kids, Tony Stark-centric, Trans Peter Parker, he carries the weight of the world, like seriously, tony stark is a dad, why is that not a tag?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:55:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23791168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fellowship_of_the_Fangirls/pseuds/Fellowship_of_the_Fangirls
Summary: "You're my best friend before anything else. I love you, Tony. More than anything."She would come before anyone else, anything else. No one had ever meant more to Tony than Mary did.And for a long time, that was the truest statement he had ever said.No one would ever mean more to Tony than Mary.Except Emery.And then Emery became Peter and it didn't change a damn thing.
Relationships: Mary Parker & Richard Parker & Tony Stark, Mary Parker & Tony Stark, Past Mary Parker/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker/Wade Wilson, Tony Stark/Stephen Strange
Comments: 6
Kudos: 72





	1. How Space Changes

**Author's Note:**

> This fic starts WAY BEFORE Peter's transition.  
> As a cis writer I am going to do everything in my power to portray his character correctly and I appologize if anything in this fic is triggering, I promise I am doing my research.

_ “I can’t do this anymore, Tony. I can’t keep hiding our relationship like it’s some kind of affair.” _

_ Tony knew this conversation was coming. They had been together for years without the press knowing. Mary wanted more. Tony just wanted to protect her. _

_ “I’m sorry, Mary. I can’t give that to you. They’ll rip you apart, you don’t deserve that.” He murmured, pulling her against his chest. “I will always love you, so I understand that this isn’t right for you. I hope I can still be a part of your life, even if it’s not as your partner.” _

_ She gripped his shoulders, burying her tear stained face into the crook of his neck. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. You're my best friend before anything else. I love you, Tony. More than anything.” _

  
  
  


“Sir, there’s a call for you.”

“Just send it to voicemail or wherever it goes, Jarvis,” Tony called, ripping away a piece of the Lamborghini engine and tossing it aside.

“It’s from Mrs. Parker, sir. I believe she is calling to confirm your trip in five days.”

Tony perked up at that.

“Oh! Patch her through. ” He stood up, wiping his hands on an overused grease rag and taking a sip of his coffee.

“Tony? Tony, are you there?”

“I’m here! What’s going on?” He called.

“We’re just excited to see you, is all. Richard already has a shopping list a mile long and I got tickets to go see that robot movie that’s coming out. Wall-e? And you-know-who is practically bouncing off the walls.”

“How is my little future genius?” Tony asked, leaning against the counter as he refilled his cup.

“She’s doing great. They’re working on fractions right now, which she doesn’t like at all. I believe the exact words she used were ‘They’re dumber than the p in pterodactyl’.”

Tony laughed at that, his chest shaking as he steadied himself. “She is going to do great things, Mary.”

There was a sigh on the line, one filled with warmth. “I know she- well speak of the little rascal! Come say hi!”

There was a small jostle as the phone was traded.

“Uncle Tony!”

“There she is! How are you, kid?” Tony’s smile stretched across his entire face as he made his way back over to the disassembled car.

“I can count by twos and fives now. Ms. Sanders says I’m a smarty pants!” The girl smiled, a slight lisp in her voice from the missing teeth. 

Tony chuckled at the small voice. “She’s right! Maybe I can bring some parts with me and we can build something while I’m there. How’s that sound?”

“Really? Mommy! Uncle Tony says we’re gonna build something!”

Mary laughed on the other line, taking the phone from her daughter. “You just made her week. She can’t wait for you to get here.”

“Me too. Just five more days. I have some stuff in Vegas and then out east, but I promise I’ll be there. No delays and no cancelation.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Mary smiled.

“Tony!” He turned towards the door as Pepper called him.

“Sounds like you’re needed,” Mary chuckled.

“You know how it is. Send Richard my best. I’ll be there on Friday.”

“Will do. Love you, Tony.”

“I love you, Mary. Tell the kid too, alright?”

“Of course. Bye, Tony.”

Jarvis hung up on the line just before the door to the lab opened, Pepper stepping through with a folder in her hands.

“Tony, your flight to Las Vegas is leaving in three hours. I can have your suits sent to dry cleaning and-”

“No need. I’m already packed,” He replied, turning back to his project.

“You’re- You’re already packed?” She asked, a confused frown on her face.

“Yep! So you can just, uh- walk out that door, get off early. You’re birthdays in a couple days, right? Go have fun. Buy something nice.” Tony said, turning his music back up and continuing his work to rebuild the engine.

“Um… thank you,” she murmured, exiting the lab.

  
  


Tony did not go to the award speech, or even to the dinner. Would Rhodey be mad at him? Definitely. Did he care at the moment? Not at all.

“You’re so good at this game,” whispered one of the girls at the table next to him. Amber? Arleen? He couldn’t remember, but he forced himself to smile when she draped herself across his shoulder.

“Would you like another drink, Mr. Stark?” A waiter asked.

“Uh, yeah. Something strong.” He replied, finishing off what was in his hand. “And expensive!” He called out as an afterthought, rolling the dice across the table.

He cheered, taking the opportunity to pull away from the woman at his side.

“You are unbelievable.”

Tony turned to Rhodey, playing along. “Oh no! Did they rope you into this?”

He knew that Rhodey could see the act, but he couldn’t decipher just how uncomfortable Tony was in the situation.

Rhodey handed him his award and gave him some kind of lecture that Tony wasn’t really paying attention to, but he got Tony away from them and that’s all that mattered.

Tony made his way to the car, Happy opening the door without a word.

“Mr. Stark! Excuse me, Mr. Stark!” Tony paused, clenching his teeth.

_ Just play along. Just play along. _

“Christine Everhart, Vanity Fair magazine. Can I ask you a couple of questions?”

“She’s cute,” Happy supplies.

Tony nods. “She’s alright?” He says, just to say something.

“Hi,” he adds, turning to face her as she steps closer.

“Hi,” Christine smiles. It’s thick, definitely fake, but not as much as the smirk plastered on Tony’s face.

Tony straightens his jacket and takes a quick breath. “Yeah. Okay, go.”

“It’s okay,” she says, a hint of snark in her voice.

He nods, preparing himself for her tirade.

“You've been called the da Vinci of our time. What do you say to that?”

“Absolutely ridiculous. I don't paint.” Tony replied, adding a hint of sass to match.

“And what do you say to your other nickname? ‘The Merchant of Death’?” Christine asked, a narrow look on her face as she pushed the recorder closer to his.

Tony felt his chest tighten. “That's not bad,” he lied, throwing in a nod in hopes to convince her. “Let me guess. Berkeley?”

“Brown, actually,” she answered with a scowl.

“Well, Ms. Brown, it's an imperfect world, but it's the only one we've got. I guarantee you, the day weapons are no longer needed to keep the peace, I'll start making bricks and beams for baby hospitals.” Tony said it quickly, keeping his tone even and hoping she couldn’t see his hand shake in his pocket.

“Rehearse that much?” Christine asked.

“Every night in front of the mirror before bedtime.” If only she could see the truth in the words.

“I can see that.”

“I'd like to show you first-hand,” he said, trying to preserve the act just a little bit longer.

“All I want is a serious answer.”

“Okay, here's serious. My old man had a philosophy, ‘Peace means having a bigger stick than the other guy.’”

“That's a great line coming from the guy selling the sticks.”

_ You sell the sticks so no one has a reason to beat those you love with one. _

“My father helped defeat the Nazis. He worked on the Manhattan Project. A lot of people, including your professors at Brown, would call that being a hero.”

“And a lot of people would also call that war profiteering.”

Tony pushed away the guilt, focusing his quickly dwindling control on his next words.

“Tell me, do you plan to report on the millions we've saved by advancing medical technology or kept from starvation with our intelli-crops? All those breakthroughs, military funding, honey.”

“You ever lose an hour of sleep your whole life?”

_ Too many. _

“I'd be prepared to lose a few with you.”

_ Say no. Please, just say no. I can’t keep doing this. _

She didn’t. They never do.

So Tony woke up with another woman in his bed and the overwhelming urge to break down under the steam of his too expensive shower in his too expensive house while he waited for a too expensive car to take the woman away.

At least his reputation was intact.

  
  


Rhodey was pissed.

But then again, Rhodey was always pissed at him for something.

Tony blamed it on the woman, which he supposed it was her fault. He didn’t know how to tell Rhodey that he had hid in his lab: wrapping Pepper’s gift, working on another engine, fixing the platform, anything he could do with his hands that would make him feel like himself again. He would have gone all day if Pepper hadn’t come to get him.

At least he got to give her her gift. 

It was a signed prerelease copy from her favorite author. 

He hoped she liked it.

Maybe she already got it, didn’t she have a friend in publishing?

He should have asked Mary. Mary could have helped.

Tony called for the sake, rubbing at his temples in an attempt to silence his inner rambling. It was the strongest thing Rhodey would let him get away with before the presentation.

Rhodey tried to stop him anyway, but one look at Tony and he decided against it.

Maybe, just maybe, Tony would be brave enough to tell him one of these days.

Rhodey knew something was going on in Tony’s head, he had for years now. But he never asked, never pushed. Guess he figured out he would never get anything out of Tony that way.

Tony, as always when it came to Rhodey, was silently grateful for it.

  
  


They loved it.

They always loved his big speeches and his gaudy displays. That’s why he gave them.

General’s clapped him on the back as he hurried to the cooler, knowing Rhodey wouldn’t stop him.

He laughed, made jokes, and talked politics. It was going well.

Obadiah called him and Tony smiled, tried to force it to his eyes in hopes that they all believed him.

He got into the vehicle with the soldiers, letting himself relax for just a moment.

“Is it true you went 12 for 12 with last year's Maxim cover models?”

Tony cracked a smile and lied, just like he did to every other man that asked him. “That is an excellent question. Yes and no. March and I had a scheduling conflict, but fortunately, the Christmas cover was twins. Anything else?”

The soldier next to him smiled, lifting his hand into the air. 

“You're kidding me with the hand up, right?” Tony joked, tension leaking away from him once again.

“Is it cool if I take a picture with you?” He asked.

“Yes. It's very cool,” Tony smiled.

The man pulled out his camera and handed it to the passenger up front.

“I don't want to see this on your MySpace page.”

The man nodded, putting up a peace sign.

“Please, no gang signs.” The soldier hesitated before Tony chuckled. “No, throw it up. I'm kidding. Yeah, peace. I love peace. I'd be out of a job with peace.”

It was almost over.

In just less than a day he would be in New York with Mary and Richard and his little M&M and everything would be perfect.

Except it wasn’t.

Because he didn’t wake up as they landed on the tarmac of JFK.

Instead he woke up with a clear memory of the explosions, bullets flying into the soldiers around him and shrapnel burying into his skin.

Instead he woke up with a battery strapped to his heart, trapped in a room with a man he had never met.

Instead he woke up with a weight on his chest that almost seemed heavy enough to match the guilt that hung atop his shoulders.

  
  



	2. The Call of Purpose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He couldn’t feel anything but the force on his face, the building pressure on his face.
> 
> But he could see her.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

That voice. Tony didn’t know that voice.

“What the hell did you do to me?” Tony asked, reaching for his chest as panic settled over him.

“What I did? What I did is save your life. I removed all the shrapnel I could, but there’s a lot left, and it’s headed to your atrial septum. Here, want to see?”

Tony looked at the man. He had a long and thin body with a pair of wire frame glasses slipping off his nose.

He was pointing to Tony’s chest, metal sticking out of unnatural places.

Tony thought he was going to be sick.

“I've seen many wounds like that in my village,” the man said. “We call them the walking dead because it takes about a week for the barbs to reach the vital organs.”

“What is this?” Tony asked, trying to find something familiar to grab onto. 

“That is an electromagnet, hooked up to a car battery, and it's keeping the shrapnel from entering your heart.”

Tony let out a heavy sigh, a twinge of relief flooding his system. Technology. That was something he could understand.

He glanced around the room, eyes landing on an old camera embedded into the ceiling.

“That's right. Smile.” The man said with a gentle raise of his eyebrows and a close lipped grin. “My name is Yinsen. We met once, you know, at a technical conference in Bern.”

Tony remembered that conference, but more as a date than I detail. “I don't remember.” He stated simply. 

“No, you wouldn't. If I had been that drunk, I wouldn't have been able to stand, much less give a lecture on integrated circuits.”

Tony forced a smile.

He had been drinking a lot that night. Obadiah had wanted him to meet some people, people that didn’t care about him or the company, just the money it could add to their overflowing pockets.

“Where are we?” Tony asked, trying to piece together as much as he could to support his memory.

There was a loud commotion outside the room, metal scraping against stone as the door was opened, revealing a group of men.

Yinsen grabbed his arm, trying to pull him up. “Come on, stand up. Stand up! Just do as I do. Come on,” he said, pushing on Tony’s elbows, “put your hands up.”

The next few minutes were overwhelming.

Tony felt his chest constrict as he watched the men tighten their hold on their guns, _his_ guns.

Yinsen translated for their leader, the man demanding that Tony build the Jericho missile: a war ending missile, or maybe it was just the beginning

All he could think about was his little M&M. 

How many days had it been? He was supposed to be in New York for the first time in months because of work. What would they do to her if they found out? What would they do with a missile like that?

The opposite of what he had built it for.

“I refuse.”

They grabbed him, forcing him in and out of water. In and out. Again and again and again until he could feel his lungs burning as he forced it out in attempts to regain air.

He couldn’t feel anything but the force on his face, the building pressure on his face.

But he could see her.

She was wrapped in one of Mary’s sweaters, the red shirt far too big and hanging off of her with sleeves rolled up nearly to the shoulder.

The sun danced on her face as she sat in front of the coffee table, carefully lining up her cars, front to back, largest to smallest, the line filled mostly with trucks.

“Chevy, Ford, GMC,” she said in a soft lilt, repeating the phrase multiple times as she twisted a piece of wrapping paper around her fingers.

“Tony.” That was Mary’s voice, not her’s.

“Tony?”

He came back to the room with a rush of water pouring down his face, their voices ghosting across his memory.

The men grabbed Tony and Yinsen, dragging them out of the room with hoods over their faces.

The fabric was yanked away, blinding Tony from the sudden sunlight.

When his vision cleared, he felt his breath hitch and his heart fall.

Weapons. His weapons. Weapons he had built to prevent such a thing.

“He wants to know what you think,” Yinsen said from where he was standing beside Tony.

“I think you got a lot of my weapons,” Tony replied, his thoughts hazy as he tried to sort through the information filtering into his head.

“He says they have everything you need to build the Jericho missile. He wants you to make a list of materials,” Yinsen paused as the leader spoke again. “He says for you to start work immediately, and when you’re done he will set you free.”

Tony felt his chest tighten. For just a moment, he allowed himself to hope before reality came crashing around him, nearly drowning him as much as the water had.

“No he won’t,” Tony said, reaching out to shake the man’s hand.

“No, he won’t,” Yinsen agreed.

They returned to their room in the cave, Tony sifting through his thoughts as Yinsen prepared them a makeshift dinner.

“I’m sure they’re looking for you, Stark, but they’ll never find you in these mountains. Look, what you just saw, that is your legacy, Stark. Your life’s work, in the hands of those murderers. Is that how you want to go out?” Yinsen asked, his voice urgent. “Is this the last act of defiance of the great Tony Stark? Or are you going to do something about it?”

“Why should I do anything?” Tony bit back. “What does it matter? They’re going to kill me, you. Maybe I should distract them a bit, hm? Give you a chance to make a run for it while they shoot me dead?” Yinsen didn’t say anything. “And even if they didn’t I’d be dead in a week, but at least the missile would die with me,” Tony finished in a murmur, his hands clenched tightly together.

Yinsen stood, laying a firm hand on his shoulder, eyes warm. “Well then, this is a very important week for you, isn’t it? Lots to do to get us out of here. _Both_ of us.” **  
**

**Author's Note:**

> Whoops. I tripped with my water bottle and all this angst came spilling out. Idk what happened


End file.
